Pumpkin Bears (Freshly Baked Furry Tails Book 3)

by Sable Sylvan

  The bear had thick, muscular legs. She was sure that the bear could catch her if she ran. The pumpkin patch was around the size of a football field. She’d have to run like a frikkin’ QB if she stood any chance of winning a game of tag against a bear. Pepper was a large woman. The bear not only made her feel small but, made her realize that she was not exactly built for outrunning wild frikkin’ animals.

  The bear was foraging, using its nose to sniff out something.

  “Hey!” called Pepper. “Shoo! Get lost!”

  Pepper knew it was risky. What if the bear wasn’t a shifter? What if the bear was a frikkin’ bear? A real bear? A beast that could tear her to shreds? Sure, it had cute, nubby ears, but it also had sharp claws on its paws.

  The bear looked up at Pepper, eying over the curvy woman, and it licked its lips. Its emerald green eyes seemed to flicker like hellfire in the soft morning light.

  Pepper gulped. The bear had sniffed her out and looked like it wanted to eat her hole.

  “Get lost!” shouted Pepper in a quivering voice. “Get away from the bees! Get away from the pumpkins! Git!”

  The bear looked over Pepper and plodded forward.

  Pepper picked up the nearest item she could muster lifting at all and tossed it toward the bear.

  The item she’d chosen was a pumpkin, and the pumpkin didn’t reach the bear. It fell, in front of the bear, and splattered everywhere.

  The bear was covered in orange goop and white seeds. For a minute, Pepper was worried the bear would lunge and eat her. Instead, the bear started making weird sounds.

  Pepper turned tail and ran, ran as fast as she could. She felt vines snap underneath her feet. She slipped in the mud and reached out for a pumpkin stem and used it to get back up on her feet and she kept running. She was splattered in mud, but it didn’t matter. It was better to be muddy than eaten.

  Pepper ran all the way back to the bakery, and she didn’t stop until she reached Darius and Terrence and Patricia, who were on the other side of the deck, hanging up lights.

  “Pepper!” called Patricia, as her employee ran over. Patricia, like Pepper, was a large and in charge woman, and while they were both sassy women, athleticism was neither of their strong suits.

  “Bear…in…pumpkin…bear,” Pepper said, between gasps.

  “A bear? In the patch?” asked Darius.

  “Yes — and…ran,” said Pepper, sitting down. “Not sure if wild…”

  “I’ll go check it out,” said Terrence, nodding to Darius.

  “I’m glad you’re okay,” said Patricia, holding Pepper, arm around her shoulders. “I bet it was just some stupid frikkin’ shifter.”

  “Hey, girl — what was that about stupid shifters?” called a voice.

  Pepper looked up. There was a man in a flannel shirt standing near the deck, in the service area.

  “Some frikkin’ bear nearly ate me right up!” said Pepper. “So, excuse me if I’m not feeling especially charitable toward wild frikkin’ animals!”

  “Sounds like a wild bear,” said the man.

  “And what makes you think that?” asked Pepper.

  “A real werebear would see a woman like you and ask her out — not eat her up,” said the man. “Name’s Oliver.”

  “Oh, the tool boy,” said Patricia.

  “Ahem — tool man,” joked Oliver. “Not the first time I’ve been called a tool, and probably won’t be the last. I’ve got Darius’ tools in the truck.”

  “You’re Grizzlyfir?” asked Patricia.

  “Actually, I’m Oliver,” sassed Oliver, raising a brow as his blue eyes twinkled mischievously. “And you’re…?”

  “Pepper, Pepper Reed,” said Pepper. “If you work for Darius, that means you’re…”

  “A lumberjack?” asked Oliver. “Yes — and I’m a bear.” Oliver flashed his palms at Pepper. There were dark marks on his palms in the shape of a bear’s paw.

  “Don’t worry, Pepper — this one seems tame enough,” said Patricia.

  “For now,” said Pepper, looking over Oliver. He was buff — real buff. His thick thighs bulged against his jeans, which should’ve had a looser fit, and his arms were nearly busting out of his flannel sleeves. He looked good — real good.

  “Oliver’s actually one of the guys you’ll be working with,” said Patricia.

  “I don’t recall you telling me I had guys I was supposed to be working with,” said Pepper, furrowing her brow. “What on earth would I need help with? Having someone taste-test my pumpkin pies?”

  “That sounds like a very, very delicious time — but I thought that you and I could build a booth together,” said Oliver.

  “Oh — that project,” said Pepper, shaking her head. “Sorry. I got all worked up from that bear scare. Of course — the booth.”

  “I do a lot of custom projects around Grizzlyfir,” said Oliver. “I thought we’d set up a booth, and maybe some tables and chairs, for starters.”

  “That sounds great,” said Pepper.

  “Too bad you couldn’t help build the booth for the River Festival,” sassed Patricia.

  “I had another project I’d committed to,” said Oliver, before looking at Pepper. “I never, ever break my commitments.”

  Darius and Terrence came back.

  “I’m telling you; it was one of yours,” said Darius, shaking his head.

  “And I’m telling you, you can’t tell that kind of thing by scent alone!” said Terrence.

  “If you’d just let me follow the dang trail, then I’d —” started Darius. “Oh. Oliver. Hey. I see you’ve gotten acquainted with Pepper.”

  “Yes sir,” said Oliver. “Tools are in the back of the truck. You need help with this?”

  “Nah, you’re free to go,” said Darius.

  “Well, then I must take my leave,” said Oliver, pretending to tip an imaginary hat at Patricia and Pepper. “Duty calls.” Oliver did an intricate bow and then a turn and walked back to his truck.

  “He’s cute,” said Patricia, nudging Pepper.

  “Yeah — and I’m busy,” said Pepper. “All I’m interested in doing is making sure that our pumpkin patch is ready for business.”

  “And that it stays bear-free?” asked Patricia.

  “Okay,” admitted Pepper with a grin. “There’s one bear that I’d allow into my pumpkin patch…but just one.”

  “Plus — he seems to think you’re pretty cute,” said Patricia.

  “Why is that such a surprise?” asked Pepper, raising a brow.

  “Because you’re covered in mud, hon,” said Patricia.

  Pepper looked down. She’d forgotten she’d slipped in the mud. It was all over the front of her clothing, and she was sure there was more on the sides and the back.

  “Don’t tell me it’s — ” started Pepper.

  “On your face, in your hair,” said Patricia. “It looks like you lost a fight against a cup of pudding. If he still thinks you’re cute after seeing you like this, well…he might just be a keeper.”

  Chapter Two

  Pepper was mixing up the first batch of pumpkin pie filling of the day when Patricia came by.

  “Hey, Pepper,” said Patricia. “How’re you feeling today?”

  “Fine, why?” asked Pepper, confused.

  “Well, you had that scare with that bear the other day,” said Patricia.

  “Oh, that,” said Pepper with a laugh. “It was just a case of nerves.”

  “How’re the pies coming?” asked Patricia.

  “Why don’t you try some of the filling and find out for yourself?” asked Pepper. She took a clean spoon and dipped it into the filling. She passed the spoon to Patricia. Patricia put the spoon her mouth, and once the cold metal spoon was out of her mouth, she swirled the filling around her mouth.

  “I’m getting vanilla…cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, of course…and is that cardamom?” asked Patricia.

  “Very good,” said Pepper. “Is it too much?”

  “No — it lets the pum
pkin flavor shine through,” said Patricia. “But…it could use a little ginger.”

  “One step ahead of you,” said Patricia, motioning over a pie plate that already had a pie crust inside, with some crumbles on top.

  “What is that?” asked Patricia. “Did you eat a cookie over the frikkin’ pie plate?”

  “This year, I want to try out a gingerbread pie crust,” said Pepper

  “Whoa — hold up,” said Patricia. “Did you just say gingerbread pie crust? Holy heck, Pepper — that’s frikkin’ brilliant!”

  “Well, that’s not all,” said Pepper. “I want to start putting in gingerbread cookie bits, in the batter and on the top and bottom of the filling, to add a crunch. Quadruple gingerbread pumpkin pie. I thought we could also include some gingerbread and pumpkin sauce packets with the pies — and sell them in jars, for folks to add to their own pies. Oh, and the best part — the pies have a yummy gingerbread streusel on top!”

  “That’s a lot of ideas,” said Patricia, taking a notepad out to start writing them down.

  “You know that all I think about all year is what we’re gonna do with the pumpkins,” said Pepper. “I had another idea, and maybe it’s a bit crazy. You know how we always offer seasonal sugar cookies?”

  “Easter eggs and flowers for the spring, Christmas trees and snowmen for the winter, yeah,” said Patricia, still scribbling down notes.

  “Why don’t we offer gingerbread cookies for the autumn?” asked Pepper.

  “Instead of sugar cookies?” asked Patricia.

  “No — as a separate thing,” said Pepper. “But, we could offer them at the same price, and allow people to mix and match them, along with our other inexpensive cookies.”

  “Okay — and what kind of designs do you think we should do for the cookies?” asked Patricia.

  “We already do a pumpkin — so I think we should do more pumpkins, and use it as a way to get the word out about our brand new double — no, quadruple — gingerbread pumpkin pies,” explained Pepper. “I think we should also start offering the pies before Halloween, but that means we’re going to need some people to test the recipes out on — guinea pigs.”

  “I can’t find you guinea pigs…but would werebears do?” asked Patricia.

  “You don’t mean — ” started Pepper.

  “The lumber crews would be perfect for this job,” said Patricia. “After a hard day of chopping down trees, I think they’ll be in the mood for something sweet. I don’t think they’ll complain about this gig.”

  “I’m honored you’re trusting me with those clients, and I’ll be sure not to let you down,” promised Pepper.

  “As long as you write down the recipe, we can have the other bakers prep the pies for this weekend’s deliveries to the camps,” said Patricia. “If the pies are popular, we can push them for the camps’ Halloween parties.”

  “Wait, hold up — you don’t want me baking them myself?” asked Pepper.

  “Well, you won’t have time to bake all of them, given you’ll be working the patch,” said Patricia.

  “Oh, heck — I forgot all about that!” said Pepper.

  “Darius texted me and said he’s coming down the mountain right now with that carpenter of his, so you might wanna get changed into your outdoor clothes,” said Patricia.

  “Perfect,” said Pepper. “Do me a favor — I gotta toss this pie in the oven real fast. Can you make sure it comes out in, oh, twenty-five minutes? I’m setting a timer on the oven, but I don’t want it to overbake.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” said Patricia with a wink.

  Pepper mixed some gingerbread bits into the pie. She added bits in varying sizes because she wanted to see how crumbly the pie should be. By combining differently sized crumbles, she could figure out the ideal size for the crumbs. She wanted pies that were crunchy but that were still pumpkin pies. She added a gingerbread streusel that she’d made by modifying the bakery’s regular streusel recipe, subbing brown sugar for white sugar and adding in ginger and other tasty spices into the mix. She poured the pie filling into the pie shell, topped the filling with more gingerbread crumbs, and then, added the streusel, before popping the pie in the oven. She left a note for Patricia on the two bowls of toppings — pumpkin and gingerbread sauce — so Patricia would know how to properly ‘dress’ the pies. Of course, they’d also need some whipped cream,.

  Pepper ran to the locker room, switched her comfortable ratty baking sneakers out for her cute and equally ratty and comfortable autumn boots. She peeled off her apron, tossed it in the laundry bin — as the bakery provided and laundered all the aprons — and then, she put on a warm crimson fleece vest covered by an orange puffer jacket. She went outside and made her way to the pumpkin patch, where Patricia was talking with three guys — the two lumber bosses and the very handsome carpenter.

  There was a fourth guy. Pepper spotted him last. She frowned to herself. She didn’t know this guy. He was cute — but he had a scowl on his face. She wasn’t sure if that made him more sexy or less sexy.

  “And there’s the woman of the hour,” said Patricia, waving at Pepper. “Hey! Took you long enough!”

  “You can’t rush art,” said Pepper.

  “Baking’s an art?” said the new guy.

  Pepper put a hand on her hip. “Of course it is.”

  “I guess I’ll take your word for it,” said the new guy, rolling his eyes. The autumn wind blew through the pumpkin patch, kicking up brown and crimson leaves. He brushed his hair back with his hands. That’s when Pepper spotted the marks on his hands — the marks that signified he was a shifter. Many shifters had special marks on their hands, usually in the shape of their shift’s tracks. For werebears, the marks were those of a bear’s paw — dark marks, placed broadly in the center of the palm, with some smaller marks at the base of each finger. While the bears were still able to use their hands as ‘normal,’ it usually made their hands feel a little rough.

  Pepper looked the man over. He was strong, muscular, tall, with black hair, and green eyes that somehow seemed familiar.

  “And you are…?” started Pepper.

  “This is Peter,” said Terrence. “He’s our newest carpenter.”

  “I thought that was Marvin,” said Patricia, crossing her arms.

  “Marvin went back home — tired of the Hemlock life,” said Terrence. “Heard he’s a CFO at a tech company now.”

  “A CFO?” asked Pepper.

  “Chief financial officer,” answered Terrence.

  “I know what it is — but that guy went from being a carpenter to being a C-level exec?” asked Patricia, sure to use jargon so Terrence got the message that Patricia was no dumb bunny shifter.

  “Hemlock Crew’s full of rich guys that are just there to prove something to their daddies,” scoffed Oliver.

  “Love to hear you say that to my father’s face,” retorted Peter.

  “Boys, boys — save the fighting for when we get a mud pit and a video cam so I can sell the footage,” said Patricia. “Right now, we need to focus on the booth.”

  “What’s the plan?” asked Pepper.

  “We’ve drawn up some plans for a booth. It’s a permanent all-weather structure. This lot of land isn’t used for most of the year, which is a real waste. We’re going to be clearing out an area and installing a wood deck that’ll match the one by the bakery. We’re also adding a second deck, with a roof, so people can sit there, rain or shine,” explained Darius.

  “We’re planning on using this space as a flex space — so we can use it for the pumpkin patch sales, but we can also use it for, I don’t know — weddings, maybe?” suggested Patricia.

  “I thought Oliver was the one building it,” said Pepper. “Why’s Peter here?”

  “Peter needs to get some hands-on experience, and, uh…” started Terrence.

  “You thought that he should train with Grizzlyfir because they’re the best?” asked Pepper. “Or, is it because you think that they should be the ones to deal
with him, so you don’t have to?”

  Terrence gulped. There was no right answer to that question!

  “I asked for extra help,” said Oliver, putting a hand on Pepper’s arm and winking. “I always like to have someone around to spot me — for safety reasons. Remember that lesson, Peter — you always want someone to spot you.”

  “I don’t need a spotter,” scoffed Peter.

  “Tell that to yourself when you’ve got a load of beams crushing your chest,” retorted Oliver. “You work on my site, you work by my rules.”

  “Oliver’s here for another reason,” said Patricia.

  “Oh?” asked Pepper.

  “Well, after your scare with the bear, I wanted someone to be around to make you feel safe,” said Patricia. “When Oliver’s busy, Peter can keep you company — and run any bears off the land.”

  Pepper turned bright red. “I don’t need a private security detail like a frikkin’ princess!”

  “Didn’t Cinderella have a thing for pumpkins?” asked Peter, raising a brow. “Never met a gal that didn’t want to be treated like a pretty princess.”

  Pepper’s cheeks started to turn a shade of purple not sold as a blush at most stores. Patricia put an arm around Pepper’s shoulders.

  “You know…I think she’s gonna let you get away with that one — this time,” warned Patricia, squeezing Pepper’s shoulders. “Trust me — Pepper’s a firebrand. She’s one of our most valuable employees. Your job is to scare off the bears, Peter — not to scare off our star bakers.”

  “Speaking of baking…” started Pepper.

  “Oh, shoot — the pie!” said Patricia. “Okay. I’m gonna run in and handle that.”

  “We’ve got to get back to work too,” said Darius.

  “Yeah,” admitted Terrence. “We’ll be around, though.”

  “Bye, guys,” said Patricia, before practically jogging to the back of the bakery.

  Pepper turned to Oliver and Peter and looked them over. They were both strong, handsome men — handsome shifters — but could the two men from very different worlds work together?